A New Outlook
by Fictionnaire
Summary: After returning from being Agent Afloat. Tony still has trouble dealing with guilt. With no headslaps, he seeks punishment for himself. Rated for course language
1. Chapter 1

Tony would never admit it to anybody. But his time at NCIS had been hell. The last couple of years had been truly hell. He'd lost the relationship he had with the only woman he was truly in love with. Because of orders from Jenny the Director he left her to die in a hail of damn bullets. That really pissed off his Boss. That he could handle but then the team was split. Tony was sent to be an Agent Afloat. Gibbs fought like a rabid dog to get him back. That's when Tony thought things were looking up but as soon as he got back at NCIS the physical contact had ceased to exist. It was obvious to him that Gibbs was still punishing him by withdrawing his fatherly relationship. That was what hurt the most… McGee also had decided to start acting snobby He heard the small snide comments. You know what?! Tony had stopped caring.

He was even sent on a fucking bogus exercise and got a damn rifle butt to the face. Did he even get an apology? No! While he was hoping some things would go back to normal they never did and he didn't see the light or the silver lining. Tony wanted punishment for being the screw up that he was… Not this feeling of being disowned again. Again from a father. Hell, if Gibbs wasn't going to punish him for his mistakes then he sure as hell was going to get himself punished.

* * *

Tony had tried to end his misery with alcohol but that wasn't working. _As the saying goes… I tried to drown my problems but the bastards learned how to swim._ Tony laughed bitterly. He put his coat on and headed out to a nearby bar. It didn't matter to him which one. But preferably one he didn't frequent. Of course he was to be at work the following morning but of course he didn't care.

It didn't take long for him to drink enough of the 'Dutch courage' to get up the nerve to do what he really wanted to do. Tony really wanted punishment… He wanted his ass kicked. Unfortunately, that damn Fight Club movie was right. Most people tended to avoid confrontations most of the time. Tony even tried, unsuccessfully, to pay people to get into a fight but they just thought he was crazy.

_What the hell?_ He asked himself. He thought to hell with it though. _What was wrong with everybody?_ "I have no purpose. I have no place. We have no Great War, we have no Great Depression!" Tony called out. He was speaking to himself mainly. He didn't care that people were listening.

"Go home you drunk," A man told him.

"Our Great War is a personal War," Tony ignored him. "The Great depression is my life…I've been watching television, I was led to believe that one day I'd be a millionaire or a movie God. But now I know I won't. It's taken me all my life to realize that… And I'm really pissed off about it!" Saying the words out loud made them feel so real. It was true… He had always believed in a future that was now unattainable. _Why hadn't I seen this sooner?_

Tony looked at his clenched fist and punched himself in the mouth. If nobody was going to punish his screw ups then he'd have to rely on the only person he could trust… Himself. It felt good. Tony raised his arm up and punched his side a couple of times. It hurt… But it felt damn good. Tony smacked his head up against the outside wall. The tingling sensation of pain was his punishment. It was more than that it was his relief. Someone had cared enough to torture him for his fuck ups.

"Hey man," Someone said to him.

"Don't stop me," Tony said holding his hand up. He could taste blood in his mouth now from his lip and nose.

"No… I didn't think you were serious about wanting to be beaten up," he said.

Tony punched him self in the stomach again and stomped on his own toe. "You missed your opportunity," Tony laughed as he stopped for a second to catch his breath.

"I'll pay you," the man said seriously.

Tony stood up straight. How could he refuse such an offer? "How much?" He asked. He wondered how much someone would be willing to pay to beat him up.

"I got a hundred on me," The man answered.

"Perfect… But there's one rule," Tony pocketed the money. "No hitting in the ribcage or diaphragm. "Go," Tony said.

"What?" The man asked. "Now?"

"Time's wasting… I'm not going to let you hit me all night," Tony checked his watch. Two minutes," he said.

The man doubled him over and struck him in the back. Whoa… Tony hadn't factored being hit there. It was good that he knew the rule and stayed away from that area. Just before the time was up, Tony received a swift kick to the thigh. "That was good," Tony said as he was now rubbing his sore spots.

* * *

The next morning he strode into the NCIS building. When he smiled at the security guard, his lip opened up again. "Agent DiNozzo?" The security guard asked.

"Yes?" Tony answered.

"Are you alright?" He asked Tony.

"Yes I am," Tony picked up his ID and put it in his pocket. People knew he looked really beat up and they didn't hide their stares. Let them stare he thought. I got a lot of cash in my pocket… _I've been punished physically for the shit I've done. Go ahead and stare._ Tony thought bitterly at everyone. Nobody understood what he was feeling.

"Can I borrow a tissue?" He said to some woman in the elevator. Tony wiped the wet blood that was leaving a trail past his lips. He took out his wallet and counted the money. Last night actually felt great.

Tony limped into the bullpen as his leg played up again. He could feel Ziva's eyes on him, then McGee's and then Gibbs'. Tony sat down as if nothing was amiss. _Let them wonder about it._

"What the hell happened?" Gibbs asked as he looked over at his bruised agent.

"Nothing Boss," Tony answered with a small smirk. _Nothing you need to concern yourself with. I'm having things handled._ "Do we have a case?" Tony asked.

"Did you get jumped?" Ziva's eyes narrowed.

"Nope," Tony answered. He looked at her for a second and thought about how much would Ziva be willing to pay to get in a fight with him. "Now if we don't have a case… I'm sure… You can stop staring now if you like," Tony said without looking up.

"Who assaulted you DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"I wasn't assaulted Boss," Tony answered flatly. He waved his hand across his face. _Subject dropped._ No complaint… No case. "Cold cases then Boss?" Tony asked. He looked over at the others. McGee would never understand. Ziva would never allow herself to be beaten up and Gibbs would go crazy over it. _Or just shrug his shoulders and not care._ Tony didn't care what they thought anymore. There was a new world he had gotten him self into.

* * *

A/N: This idea came from Fight Club of course. And who else thinks that they've been told about a future they'd never reach. The speech that DiNozzo gives is a variation to the one Tyler Durden gave in the movie.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A NEW OUTLOOK**_

_**A/N: I wrote this because I feel that Gibbs/Tony seem to have lost their close relationship. This is not my usual lighthearted stuff I wrote and decided to continue this story to see where it goes… Of course I wrote this with certain movies in mind. Mainly Fight Club. Don't worry, Tony isn't going to develop another personality though.**_

* * *

The more Tony said that there was no problem. The more Gibbs was getting annoyed. _Perhaps the man's pissed because I came in with a genuine smile on my face. Perhaps he wants to know so he can stop it._ He was bitter at everything still.

"Go and see Ducky," Gibbs suddenly said. "Get yourself cleaned up." Gibbs knew that when Tony came to work injured he showed the flippant attitude but this felt different. Tony was not just acting dismissive he was acting natural about it.

Tony stood up and limped towards the elevator. _Sure I'll be your good little soldier. You say jump I jump._ He looked over at Gibbs who watched him leave. The lead agent pursed his lips and tried to think of what possibly could be going on.

* * *

_**AUTOPSY**_

Tony walked into autopsy. "What happened to you?" Palmer asked with his mouth wide open.

_Ha! Curiosity… Gotta love that human trait._ Tony snorted. "I'm here to see Ducky at Gibbs' insistence," he told the young ME's Assistant.

"Mister Palmer… How often do I need to tell you to triple check your work? Your spelling can be atrocious. I wonder if you've ever heard of a dictionary," Ducky was impatient.

"Sorry Doctor Mallard," Palmer responded like a dog that had been smacked with the paper. "I'll redo the report right away," he said.

_Pathetic! Perhaps I should take him with me… haha, recruitment._ Tony thought to himself. "What happened to you dear Anthony?" Ducky's expression changed from anger to concern.

"Nothing Ducky," Tony answered as the older man gestured for him to sit on an autopsy table. He allowed himself to be poked and prodded without moving.

"Nothing seems to be broken," Ducky said.

"Nope," Tony responded as he put the shirt back on. He couldn't think of any reason to show off the bruises on his body.

"How did this happen Anthony?" Ducky asked.

Tony thought for a moment before laughing. Maybe it'd be good to have a doctor on side. But not Ducky… He'll run and tell Gibbs like a minion. So he dismissed that thought and got to his feet. "Nothing happened," Tony answered.

"You know anything you tell me is quite confidential," Ducky assured him.

_Yeah right! Confidential until you go running to Gibbs._ If nobody planned on being appreciative of his work… To hell with them he thought. There was something better around the corner. "So am I cleared to work?" Tony asked.

"Yes my dear boy… But," Ducky began to say.

"Thanks Ducky," he said as he left autopsy. There was no reason to elaborate to the ME at what was going on. He had got Ducky to check up on him. He had done what he was told… Didn't he always? But nobody seemed to really take notice of that.

* * *

_**Bullpen**_

It wasn't surprising to see everyone hanging around Gibbs' desk like a bloody campfire or something similar. He saw Abby there and wondered what the hell she was doing there. They were talking about him… That much was obvious when he got closer there was an uneasy silence.

"Hey, Tony!" Abby quickly broke the silence.

"Abs," Tony greeted coldly before quickly changing his tune. That wasn't fair, Abby had helped him through a lot. Especially after Jeanne. "How's it going?" He asked as he sat down at his desk. "Did you have a good weekend?"

"Better than you by the look of it," Abby commented.

_Of course they'll get you to pry about what's going on. _"Who said I had a bad weekend?" Tony shrugged. Sure it started off bad. But it ended on a high. "I don't know why everyone is insisting I had a bad weekend," Tony defended himself while he put his hands behind his head and let out a contented sigh.

* * *

Ziva just wanted to make sure Tony was alright. That and the fact she was ordered to follow him home. To tail him to possibly see what was happening. To see what trouble he had gotten himself into. He was driving home the usual way until he turned into the parking lot of a seven-eleven.

Ziva grunted as he did a U-turn and drove right past her and to a drive through bottle shop and then to the local take away shop. There he picked up some food and spent time talking to the girls there. She assumed that was what he was doing. After about an hour, she followed him to the Post Office boxes and he drove around. Ziva grunted again as Tony seemed to decide to go window shopping. He walked around a corner and that was where she lost him.

* * *

_**Bullpen… Following Morning**_

Tony's soreness had slightly faded. He had a smirk on his face when he saw Ziva yawning in the bullpen. "Late night Zee-Vah?" Tony asked. "You should've turned in early like I did," he said seriously.

"You did not…" Ziva retorted but quickly shut up.

"What was that Zee-Vah?" Tony asked.

"Nothing," she told him.

_Yeah right. I know you were following me around last night._ "So why the late night?" Tony asked. Gibbs have you playing errand boy?" He snapped. That was what it seemed like. Ziva wasn't just in the neighborhood of her own free will. Gibbs had a habit of using pawns for his own purposes.

"No reason," Ziva answered.

"Getting some action… Having fun? Being un-Ziva like" he teased her. It was what they all deserved. Team Gibbs didn't deserve his undying loyalty._ Give a little take a little… That's bullshit._

"Actually I was following you," she confessed.

_Shock horror._ "You were following me?" Tony asked as if he had no idea that that was the case. What he didn't say, was that he had purposely led her everywhere he went. It was a dangerous game he was playing but it was worth it. "You look like you need to back to Mossad and polish your tailing techniques… They suck!" Tony stated loudly.

Ziva stood up angrily. She was shocked to have her abilities insulted. _Perfect!_ "You have that fire in your eyes… Go ahead," Tony said keeping his arms outstretched… Silently offering her a free shot.

"What is wrong with you?" Ziva asked.

_They don't get it… They never got it._ He put his arms down and sat down at his desk and waited for a case so they could all get off his back. "You need more practice," he suggested before switching on his computer and checking up on the internet.

Ziva shook her head and sat back down. She was ready to strangle Tony for his attitude. McGee walked in and found himself put off by the silence. Usually there was something going on but not today.

* * *

A/N: I thought I'd try and see how this goes for a continuation.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony had gone through the week like a robot. The high he had been on soon faded along with the bruising and pain. _No case… No danger... That shit is boring._ Tony cursed the monotony of the time in between cases. That time was wasted according to Tony and that angered him more. Can't they see that they could be more productive with their time? No, they had to stay inside the box. Tony laughed quietly. With all their backgrounds… Gibbs was hardcore military… Ziva was trained by Mossad and McGee had spent most of his life at school or college. They had discipline and routine drummed into them. Now they were boring and growing stale. After awhile bread grows stale… It becomes hard and inedible and then you toss it in the bin alongside all the other junk nobody used.

Whatever Tony was doing at times he'd often stopped and counted the hours until the weekend. The weekend was his refuge from his weekly 'boring-as-fucking-hell' routine. He noticed that the autopsy gremlin had had one of those weeks where nothing he done could please his mentor. The more he tried… The more Palmer seemed to screw up. By Friday, Palmer was at his wit's end and he looked like he was about to give in.

"I'm going for a few drinks tonight. You want to come with me Palmer?" Tony asked as he was leaving.

Palmer's head snapped up at the offer. He was friendly with Tony but had never been invited for a few drinks. Palmer would've said no if he thought there was a chance the offer would roll around again. "I could do with a night of drinking myself under the table," he confessed to how he was feeling right now.

"Well… Get your boots and let's start walking," Tony told them.

* * *

The world to Tony felt a little less bleak with some beer in them. He knew that it didn't fix the problems but it numbed the emotional and physical pain. Afterwards he'd con Palmer into replacing the emotional with the physical pain. Then he'd be happy to return the favor.

"I think I drunk a bit too much," Palmer said as they entered the parking lot.

"Ya think," Tony laughed at this. He stopped near the car and went to put the keys in.

"You sure you alright to drive?" Palmer asked. The volume was only barely within the hearing range.

"You've had a bad week?" Tony said suddenly. The change of subject made Palmer look at him oddly.

"That noticeable huh?" Palmer asked. It hadn't been too hard to realize that the ME's assistant was having one of those weeks. Everything was a stuff up.

"Pretty hard not to notice," Tony said. "Are you to the point where you just want to hit something or somebody?" He asked seriously and waited for Palmer to respond.

"I thought of joining the gym to hit something. But crazy as it sounds, I just want to hurt someone. I know crazy isn't it?" Palmer responded.

"Not at all," Tony said. "If you like… I'll let you punch me," Palmer laughed but saw the seriousness in Tony's eyes. "Come on," Tony prodded the younger man.

"And have you strike me?" Palmer asked. "No thanks. You'd kick my ass," he said.

"I won't strike back if you don't want me to," Tony shrugged his shoulders. He would keep to his word. After all, this wasn't a movie. "How did you think I came to work looking all beat up on Monday? I got into fights," he explained. "But I do expect you not to say anything."

"I don't know where to hit you," Palmer said with a shaky voice.

"Anywhere," Tony said as he put the keys into the pocket. Palmer looked at him with a confusing look. "Surprise me," Tony prodded and gave a soft smile to show that he could be trusted.

Palmer shrugged his shoulder. He was drunk enough to actually do it as well. If he had been sober he would've just walked away. He drew his fist back and went for a left hook but was too drunk to get it to connect properly. Somehow he missed the jaw completely and knocked a couple Tony a couple of steps backwards.

"Ow-" he cried out. "The shoulder? Of all the places on the body, you went for the shoulder," Tony shook the shoulder to get some feeling into it.

"Sorry… Are you alright? I was going for the jaw and I stuffed up," Palmer winced as he waited for the retaliation.

"That was good," Tony laughed when he noticed Palmer was bracing himself for an attack. "You want me to hit you? I will if you want me to," Tony wanted to continue getting struck and surprising enough, Palmer had a good punch.

Palmer opened one eye. "I know I'm not going to rest until you retaliate," he replied. That was true. "Alright," he eventually said. "Hit me."

Tony didn't hold back on the punch and drove it hard into the young man's stomach. Palmer doubled over as he tried to breathe through the pain. Tony looked down and waited for him to stand back up. "Feel better?" He asked him.

Palmer thought hard for a moment. The anger had left him. The pain had taken away the problems he was having. "Yeah actually," Palmer answered.

They traded punch for punch a couple of times until the instinct took over and before they knew it they were surrounded by curious onlookers. Tony was grateful that peoples' morals were so far down the damn sewers that no LEOs were called to break up two men beating the crap out of each other.

A man held out his cell phone and captured the fight with the video camera option. It was in poor quality but good enough to see what was going on. After the fight was over the man called up someone.

"Yeah… Hey," The man in the coat said quietly. "I'm going to be sending you some video of something I think you'd enjoy," he said proudly. "These two men are in the parking lot and they… Well you'd see the outcome. Call back," he said as he closed the cell shut and waited for the call back.

Tony and Palmer sat up against his car. "Is this what you did last week?" Palmer asked as he checked himself over.

"No… Last weekend I was charging people fifty bucks a minute to beat me up," Tony laughed. He couldn't believe that people paid that much. "Remember though, you can't say anything about this," Tony made sure the younger man understood that.

"Rule one huh?" Palmer laughed but stopped when his chest protested against that action. "And rule two," he said before standing up.

"Take it you feel great. They say there's an indistinguishable line between pain and pleasure," Tony stood up and patted Palmer on the back. "I think they're right," he said. A man tapped Tony on the back before he got into the car.

"Hey. Great entertainment," The man said to him. "Take this. Think you'd be very interested in this," he put a note into Tony's pocket. "Bring the young man if you wish to. Don't forget to take that paper with you," he said with a triumphant grin on his face.

Tony looked at his pocket and then at the man before entering his car. "What was all that about?" Palmer asked.

Tony shrugged his shoulders as he drove off.

* * *

**WEDNESDAY NIGHT**

It didn't take Tony long to make up his mind when he read through the note. He'd take the chance and go to the address. It didn't feel too surprising when the meeting place looked like an old forgotten parking garage. He showed the small looking invitation to the bouncers at the entrance. They waved him through. There was a large group of people standing around as if waiting for something. Tony's skills soon kicked into action and he counted fifteen people and they seemed to be from all sorts of life.

"Hey Hey," Someone called out as he banged a pylon with a pole to get everyone's attention. "We have a newcomer," the guy motioned for Tony to stand by him. For some reason he felt compelled to do so. "Glad you accepted the invitation. Tell me… What do you do for a living?" Donavon asked.

"I'm an NCIS agent," Tony answered.

There was a stunned silence before whispers started going around. "Now, now," Donavon quieted down the commotion forming. "We all know he's a federal agent now. But he's not here in that capacity… Isn't that right? What's your name?"

"Tony," Tony answered nervously. "No, I'm not here officially," he said.

"Why are you here?" Donavon asked.

Tony was here because of the invitation but what brought him here was the prospect of danger. The prospect of being put through physical torment. But what really led him to that was because his world turned to shit. The words on the invitation mentioned a fight club. That was what he wanted. "I am so pissed off with my shitty life. I've fucked up things so badly that my so called friends don't even look at me anymore," Tony said.

"So now you've come here looking for something. We're not like your friends Tony," Donavon said. "We don't even pretend to be friends. But what we do have is respect. Is that what you lack Tony? People not respecting you? Well that won't happen here," Donavon spoke to him directly. More than that he spoke to his soul and allowed his heart to hear what it needed to hear. "There's the eight rules of Fight Club we expect you to obey though…" he added.

"I know the rules… I've seen the movie," Tony responded. He'd lived with Abby's rules and Gibbs' rules all the time he'd been with NCIS. The eight simple rules of Fight Club were good enough for him.

"Then you know the eighth and final rule," Donavon said and Tony nodded. "Good. There's one thing I want to say while all of you are of sound mind. Rebellion is good for the soul… Questioning authority is the way to understanding what is right and what is wrong for you," Donavon said as in thought.

* * *

A/N: I hope you lot are enjoying this fic… And kinda understand where it's coming from.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Just in case someone hasn't heard of the 8 rules of fight club..._

_Rule #1: You do not talk about Fight Club  
__Rule #2: You DO NOT talk about Fight Club  
__Rule #3: If someone says "Stop" or goes limp, taps out. The fight is over  
__Rule #4: Only two guys to a fight  
__Rule #5: One fight at a time  
__Rule #6: No shirts. No shoes  
__Rule #7: Fights will go on as long as they have to  
__The 8__th__ and final rule… If this is your first night at Fight Club, you have to fight._

_Eight Simple rules. It sounds simple doesn't it? There's no list of sporadic numbered rules that confuse you more than teach you. If you want to live a life by fifty rules then that's your choice. Just don't come crying to me when you can't tell the difference between twenty two and thirty six._

Tony didn't end up as bruised and battered as he thought he would. Sure the day after he came into work with a black eye. It was good getting into an organized fighting situation. There was only one problem for Tony and that was stopping Gibbs trying to get the truth. He'd play it coolly.

"What happened to you Tony? Again?" McGee asked as he pointed to his own eye.

Tony shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said to McGee with all the conviction he could muster. He had to smile since he was beginning to convince himself that nothing happened.

"Your eye," McGee stated the obvious.

"Yes Tony," Ziva had noticed it as well.

_If you fight regularly or even semi regularly you tend to size up people to judge how you'll go against each other. I could kick McGee's ass quicker than he can hack into the mainframe. Ziva on the other hand…_

"What?" Ziva asked with a shocked expression.

"What?" Tony asked back.

"What are you grinning about?" Ziva asked. She was shocked to see the goofy grin appear on his face.

"Nothing at all Ziva," Tony answered as he stood up when Gibbs entered the bullpen.

"Gear up," Gibbs said as he made his way to the elevator. Soon enough he'd have a word with his Senior Field Agent. "We've got a dead sailor at Purina Office Complex," He continued until he got into the elevator. After being in NCIS for quite some time, he'd seen bodies in a lot of places but the kind that just turned up in office buildings was somewhat odd.

* * *

_**Purina Office Complex**_

Team Gibbs stepped in the elevator to the third floor. It was easy to see whereabouts the dead body was as there was a crowd gathering around the area. Tony stopped himself from laughing. _People's obsession with dead bodies probably just stems from the fact that they've outlived one person. God if they only knew that the odds of them being next are fast improving. _Tony mused to himself. Ever since Jenny Shepard had been killed he found himself thinking about mortality more and more. There was no way he could talk about it to anyone. Gibbs wouldn't want to listen. McGee wouldn't understand. Ziva would never admit to feeling anything.

Tony wore his NCIS cap backwards as he began taking photographs. Ducky soon arrived with Palmer in tow. Palmer and Tony exchanged secret looks right before getting back to work.

"I would say the Time Of Death is calculated to be between eight thirty to nine am," Ducky said as he read the reading.

"That fits in with what they were saying. Mister Jake Lewis said that when Adrian Templemen came to visit him earlier, he also mentioned that the man had trouble breathing," McGee said to Ducky. "Soon he struggled for breath and collapsed," he told them.

Ducky carefully unbuttoned the sailor's shirt he saw the extensive bruising on the man's chest. "What would the blue tinge to the lips indicate Mister Palmer?" Ducky asked. His assistant was due to have an exam within a week and would often ask questions.

"It's a sign of Cyanosis Doctor Mallard," Palmer answered. "It's an indication that the body wasn't getting enough oxygen," he said.

"Good," Ducky responded. He was pleased how far his young assistant had come over the years. "Oh my. Looks you have been in a fight. Let's get you back to NCIS and see the extent of your injuries shall we?" Ducky talked directly to Adrian. It wasn't an unexpected occurrence.

Ziva entered the crowded office with her notebook. "The friend he came to see, Marshall Holiday as well and said that Adrian often talked about having a feud with a Frederick Smith," she flipped through her notes. "He also said that he finally found a way where he can settle this feud once and for all," she said. "However Marshall said that this morning he didn't say anything about it," she concluded the statement.

"Well the injuries could be consistent with being in an unprotected fight," Ducky said as they zipped the body up in the body bag. "But I don't want to guess until we get the body back to Autopsy," Ducky said. There was one thing he hated doing and that was speculating any causes of death.

* * *

**NCIS**

Tony did as he was told and went to question Marshall Holliday. Gibbs waited for the autopsy results to be done. He went for coffee while Ziva and McGee organized the order of the photographs and witness accounts. Though there really didn't seem to be much to deal with.

"What do you think about Tony?" Ziva asked as she was transcribing the testimonies into official report form.

"Well he doesn't seem to be himself," McGee said. That was true, Tony had finally thrown away childish things and was acting more like a federal agent than a frat boy. "I'd like to know why he comes in sometimes looking like he's been fighting," McGee stated.

"That is a concern," Ziva responded without looking up. Tony's behavior of late was very concerning. "If he gets a scratch we usually here about it all week. This is so unTony like," she continued.

McGee suddenly laughed. "Hey maybe he's taking up fighting as a second job. You know gets paid to fight," the idea sounded so absurd to him but with Tony, anything could be possible.

"As if Tony would be regularly fighting," Ziva said. "Plus, Washington does not have any underground fighting clubs," she told them. Well she hadn't heard of any and the US of A wasn't the best at keeping secrets.

"How do you know?" McGee looked up.

"Have you ever known America to keep many big secrets?" Ziva asked as she stopped working.

"You have a point there," McGee replied.

"Consider that just about everyone in the world knows of Area 51. Everyone knows that it wasn't a weather balloon that crashed in Roswell. Need I go on?" Ziva shrugged her shoulders. She knew she was right about America being crap at keeping secrets.

McGee shrugged his shoulders. Those examples were very true. "Maybe someone's husband had finally got hold of him," he laughed at the thought.

"To my knowledge he has not been on a date for ages. He is losing his touch with women," she joked.

"I wonder if he actually got smacked around because he picked the wrong woman to flirt with and got smacked across the face," McGee suggested.

* * *

Gibbs had come up in the elevator from picking up the autopsy report from Ducky. As soon as he stepped out of the elevator he almost knocked Tony over. Gibbs had noticed the black eye but hadn't said anything about it.

"I came back from visiting Marshall Holiday," Tony responded as he walked alongside Gibbs. "What did the autopsy report say?" He asked. Tony didn't want to give more away than he had to.

"That Adrian Templeman died as a result of internal injuries sustained last night or evening. As they went untreated it was only a matter of time," Gibbs said. Ducky had explained to him that the bruises were fresh and that coincided with the internal injuries. "What did you find out from Holiday?" He asked.

"Well that he had an alibi for last night and the night before," Tony answered as he pocketed the notebook.

"Did he have anything to back it up?" Gibbs asked.

"A few people corroborated his alibi," Tony answered.

"Where was he?" Gibbs demanded to know.

"I can't divulge that information," Tony simply said without elaborating. There were just some things you couldn't talk about. Gibbs led the senior field agent into the confines of the elevator slash office. He swallowed when Gibbs angrily flipped the switch to stop it in between floors.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on with you lately?" Gibbs asked as he stood toe to toe with Tony. "Like why have you been coming into work like you've been in a boxing ring? Then you have the balls to tell me you can't tell me about a suspect's alibi?" Gibbs shouted.

"No, no and no," Tony answered each question.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs yelled at him. The insubordination went deep.

"Look Boss… I'm saying that Marshall Holiday's alibi is solid," he responded calmly. "So there is no need to go any further with him," Tony said. "Of course you don't trust me… I understand that. But that's all I have to say about that and if you want to waste your time chasing up a dead lead be my guest," Tony couldn't stop his words even if he tried. He wondered what it would take to really piss off Gibbs to the breaking point.

Gibbs slapped his hand against the wall right near Tony causing him to flinch slightly. "I demand to know what is going on with you!" He said as he stepped forward, leaving but an inch distance between the noses.

"Nothing that is effecting my work Boss," Tony wasn't about to feel intimidated by someone that wouldn't do anything. Gibbs hadn't done anything to him for ages. That's exactly what made Tony less afraid… Less intimidated.

"Is that what you think I'm asking this for?" Gibbs asked. It was the main reason for sure but it wasn't the only reason.

Tony shut off. He was tired of listening to the questions he had no intention of answering. "Are you asking me anything work related? If not I suggest you stay out of my personal life," he said in a low tone. Ever since he got back from being an Agent Float, Gibbs had stayed out of his life and now things seemed to have turned. Tony wanted him to stay out. That's what he's been doing for so long. _Jeanne, Jenny, Kate… My whole fucked up life has been headed up shit creek and finally led to the ocean of eternal damnation._

* * *

**_A/N: In this story... Tony is going to fight someone at NCIS... I haven't decided who yet. I know it's not going to be Director Vance... So before you suggest that. PM or leave in a review to see who he should fight with._**


	5. Chapter 5

A New Outlook

_**Masturbation is self improvement… Self destruction on the other hand… **__Tyler Durden – Fight Club_

_People always like to wallow in self pity and are willing to drown in their own tears. Only the fortunate few pull themselves out of the gutter and drag themselves out of the pool of tears and do something about it. You can sink or swim. _

Tony found it easier to come to work. After returning from being an Agent Afloat he found the strained relationship scary to confront. Now he didn't have to. The things being said at the fight club were ringing true. There was only one person you can rely on and that was yourself. Only one person truly cares for your wellbeing and the others would toss you to the curb like rubbish once you've outlived your usefulness. Tony couldn't argue with that, it had happened before and it was in the midst of happening again.

The man running Fight Club welcomed him. Everything he said made perfect sense. Rebellion was a way of learning. Also fighting gave him that physical interaction he so desperately craved. Tony laughed as he watched Ziva and McGee eating lunch at the bench outside. You can punish people in so many ways, but don't take away your love. Perhaps Gibbs doing that was the best thing he'd ever done for him. Tony looked down at his hands at the cigarette packet he was holding and pulled one out of the packet and lit it up.

The burning smoke when down his throat and deep inside and it made him feel nauseous but that wasn't the point. The smoking reminded him of his late childhood. If one could call it that. He did everything he could to attract attention from his father but no it didn't work.

"Tony?" McGee looked up in shock to see Tony standing there with his hands in his pocket and a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"Yes Probie?" Tony asked. "Gibbs told me to tell you that your lunch break has been cut by ten minutes," the cigarette wobbled as he spoke.

"You know if Gibbs sees you smoking he'd fit," McGee stated. Which would be true. At times after the pneumonic plague incident, Gibbs watched him like a hawk whenever something threatened the delicate lungs.

"Are you going to run and tell him McSnitch?" Tony asked.

"McGee, Ziva to the bullpen now," Gibbs' voice came from behind Tony.

"Hey Boss," Tony said as he turned around. "What can I do for you Boss?" He smiled.

Gibbs stood closer to his senior field agent. "You can tell me what the hell you're doing?" He asked dangerously.

Tony shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm doing what you asked me to…" He said. "Oh this… I was going for a James Dean look," Tony pointed to the cigarette in his mouth. To add to the event Tony dragged on it and blew smoke into Gibbs' face.

"I want to know what the hell your problem is DiNozzo," Gibbs said.

"I don't have a problem Boss," Tony said. Gibbs took the cigarette out of his agent's mouth.

"I demand to know what the hell's going on with you," Gibbs ordered. The young man knew better than to be smoking with his scarred lungs. What the hell was he trying to achieve with him? "Your behavior lately is bordering on the line of… I don't know what the hell it is… But it's affecting your work, you're on the edge DiNozzo… I'm this close to sending you for an eval," Gibbs said.

"You wouldn't Boss," Tony said as he walked past him. He was confident of that.

Gibbs turned around. No he wouldn't but the problem was that Tony knew that so it was just an empty threat. He would never send the Senior Field Agent into a position where he'd more than likely lose the job. If things kept going like this though, it might be the better option.

* * *

_**Bullpen**_

"Abby had dug up surveillance footage and found that Marshall Holiday did indeed have an alibi for that previous night… As well as a few other people," Gibbs said. "Gear up people," Gibbs told them.

Tony didn't like the sound of this. His heart already knew where they were headed. Abby had tracked Marshall's movements using available cameras that were around. Security cameras at lights or ATMs or any other camera that had been around. It was just a matter of time before Tony's extracurricular activities would be discovered.

"Coming Boss," Tony said.

* * *

_**Disused Parking Garage**_

Team Gibbs entered the concreted area. Tony did his job of photographing. The evidence of the previous Fight Club night was still on the ground. A bit of blood splatter and a tooth. It didn't matter what was going on he wouldn't betray his NCIS position. "McGee," Tony said. "Something for you to bag and tag," he pointed to the tooth on the ground.

The stench of stale blood and sweat still hung in the air. Tony wondered about his imagination. The smell brought back vivid imagery of the fighting that had transpired over. The sounds of yells of encouragement. The sickening thud of flesh hitting flesh that led to the eventual sound of flesh hitting concrete. Most of the time nothing was solved… Usually there was no reason for two men to fight, it seemed like the thrill of inflicting physical pain as well as taking your body to its limit.

"What do you think happened here?" McGee asked as he bagged and tagged the tooth.

"That's what evidence analysis is for McGee," Tony answered. He wasn't about to add his knowledge to what had gone on. "You know what they say about assume?" Tony asked. McGee shook his head. "It makes an ass out of you and me," he told McGee.

Gibbs talked into his phone animatedly. He rubbed his face before closing his cell. Gibbs watched Tony work. The news that Abby had shared with him was disturbing. By the looks of it there was some underground activity going on. He knew that approaching Tony would only result in the same attitude he'd been getting from his senior field agent for some time.

* * *

_**Wednesday Night Fight Club**_

Abby had informed Gibbs that during the course of sifting through all the video surveillance that she had spotted DiNozzo on each night as the others were. Gibbs had managed to talk her out of running and slapping the Senior Field Agent like he wanted to do. Gibbs assured Abby that he was going to put an end to this madness that Tony seemed intent on destroying himself. It took a lot of convincing to get her off the subject.

Tony stood just near the outside of the circle and watched the two men in the middle of the human sports circle. It was rough and raw action. Clearly the two were inexperienced fighters and it soon turned into something akin to wrestling. The garage looked so different on fight night. Earlier in the week, Tony was here collecting evidence of the fight. Everyone cheered enthusiastically in hope to give them an adrenaline rush.

One of the fighters "tapped out" when some sort of chokehold had been applied. Donavon did his best to give the two a "good on you" tap on the back. That was something Tony had missed from his so called colleagues at NCIS.

"Hey… You and you… In there," Donavon pointed at two men that looked like they'd put up a better fight.

"Oh, I'm not here to fight," Tony looked up. Gibbs approached the man. "Agent Gibbs… NCIS," he showed his badge to the guy who looked like he was in charge.

Donavon looked at the ID. "Running a consensual fight club like this isn't illegal," he said.

"Murder is…" Gibbs said. "A man known as Adrian was a regular here for some time. Looking at video footage it's been at least two months coming here at the same time with a lot of you," he explained.

"He hasn't been here the last couple of weeks," Donavon responded. He made a habit of getting to know people who joined the club. "This is a controlled environment. Everyone here is willing participants due to being here, they know to abide by the rules. If we're concerned about any of the participants we take them to the hospital to get checked out," Donavon folded his arms. "So if Adrian went out and got into a fight somewhere else… That's out of our hands," he said.

"I never said he died because of injuries sustained in a fight," Gibbs looked around.

"Why else would you be here questioning us?" Donavon said. "Nobody here is here against their will… They're free to come and go as they please… Except when it comes to the rules," he explained.

"Rules?" Gibbs asked.

"One… You do not talk about fight club. Two… You DO NOT talk about fight club. Three if someone says "stop" goes limp or taps out, the fight is over. Four… Only two guys to a fight. So Agent Gibbs you don't have to worry about getting mobbed. Five… One fight at a time. Six… No shirts, no shoes. Seven… Fights will go on as long as they have to. Eight… If this is your first night at fight club," A maniacal grin appeared on Donavon's face. "_You_ have to fight."

"Those are the only rules?" Gibbs asked. "I'll fight DiNozzo then," Gibbs laid out the challenge. He could dictate the fight with him. He was still angered over the events. And they might be able to only look like they're fighting. If that failed... He really did have a score to settile.

"We don't usually do that," Donavon turned to Tony. "You don't have to do this you know," he said. Gibbs was older than Tony, but Donavon could see the fire in the eyes that the older man possessed.

"I do," Tony replied. "Thanks," Tony walked out to the centre of the ring that the spectators had formed once again and started removing his jacket and shirt. He watched Gibbs do the same. It revealed his bare chest compared to Tony's hair-filled chest. Their eyes never left each other as they tossed their shoes aside and stood toe to toe.

"Is this the way it has to be?" Gibbs asked, their eyes were locked, already sizing each other up. They knew each other's strength and weaknesses.

Tony nodded his answer. Putting up with being treated like a pair of discarded shoes by his former mentor. He smiled at the thought as he tossed his shoes aside. Sure, Tony knew he'd screwed up majorly but did he truly deserve this ongoing punishment from Gibbs? "Yes it does Boss," Tony said coldly.

* * *

A/N: Next chapter is the last chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

_**A New Outlook Final**_

_What gets me about boxing is that you have two guys in the ring who have no reason to fight… Get them to drive around in the ring and eventually there'll be an accident and a real reason to fight – Jerry Seinfield_

Donavon had always hoped that two participants would come to the club to settle a score. Sure, most fights were entertaining to watch but add personal scores and that would add to the fight. He wasn't sure what their problems were and to be honest he didn't give a shit.

Tony was like a tiger circling his prey. But his prey had specific assertive defense tactics. A marine target was never easy prey. Gibbs waited… He had hoped that somehow the fight would be ended before it started. But the noise of the crowd had awoken something in him. He was angry with his Senior Field Agent. Gibbs hated the stupidity that Tony had displayed and it usually got someone killed.

Tony felt the punch to the stomach. "That's for Jenny," Gibbs said as he held the agent up and struck him above the eye. "Your stupidity got her killed," he said. Their voices were barely audible to anyone else.

Tony just managed to duck beneath a third punch. The others felt like a car had hit him. It suddenly felt like he wasn't fighting Gibbs anymore. It was just another fighter. He went straight at the ribs and pushed Gibbs against the pylon but was maneuvered around. "I don't blame you for holding me responsible for that," Tony managed to say before getting slammed to the ground.

"That's for lying to me about running undercover ops," Gibbs lifted Tony to his feet. Tony felt blood coming out of his lip and nose.

Tony kicked at the kneecap and pushed his boss up against the wall again before driving his fist into Gibbs' face. "You acted like you weren't there when I needed you most. I know I was responsible," Tony said.

Gibbs hit Tony in the diaphragm muscle and Tony fell to the ground gasping for air. The people's chants seem to fade in and out but there was no way in hell he wanted to quit. He used one hand to climb to his feet. "Did I say stop or pass out or tapped out?" Tony asked as he spat out some of the blood that had been gathering up in his mouth.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs almost sighed. Hell if he wanted to be punished this way. Then he'd do it. If this what he really wanted. Gibbs shoved him backwards with such force was that he almost fell over. The spectators had cleared a path for them so Gibbs was able to shove Tony against the wall. Tony didn't seem to be fighting at all. "You want it this way?" Gibbs asked dangerously. The predator had his prey up against the wall. Safety was no longer a concern. All the stupid things DiNozzo had ever done was fuelling his fire. All the times Tony had been so flippant about his personal health and safety. Of all the times he questioned whether Gibbs cared for him it finally came to this. Gibbs laid into him. Caution for his Senior Field Agent was out the window.

Tony slipped down to the ground, barely conscious. Gibbs watched him go down and prayed that was where he would stay. Tony tried to draw in deep breaths to get the oxygen through his body. "Stop," he managed to say. Tony's body screamed at him to stop.

Donavon helped the younger man to his feet. "Now can we go?" Gibbs asked with a sarcastic undertone.

"You're free to go now," Donavon said as he pointed to the door. "You know I really hope you will come back Agent Gibbs. You're really a good fighter," he said with a slight grin.

Gibbs turned to face the man after making sure Tony was steady on his feet. "You know we know where you are," Gibbs warned.

"Agent Gibbs… We're the people you depend on… We cook your meals, we haul your trash, we connect your calls, we drive the ambulances, we guard you while you sleep… Do not fuck with us," Donavon said still grinning.

"Are you threatening a federal agent?" Gibbs asked as he grabbed the piles of clothes and shoes.

"Not at all… I'm just quoting Fight Club movie Agent Gibbs," he responded.

_**AUTOPSY**_

"You look like you've gone a few rounds with Mike Tyson my dear boy," Ducky said as he cleaned up Tony's face a bit. There was the usual round of concussion test questions. "So what happened Anthony?" Ducky asked.

"He fell down," Gibbs answered. He was relieved once Tony's breathing had returned to normal. The flat answer made Ducky face him. "Is he alright?" Gibbs asked.

"There appears to be no major injury from this _fall_," Ducky said.

"Can we have a moment alone Duck?" Gibbs asked and waited for the ME to leave autopsy. "Well?" Gibbs looked at Tony. "You want to tell me why the hell you're going all rebel on me for?"

"I know you hate me for everything Boss… And I don't blame you," Tony stood up and waited for Gibbs to say something. "I know I screwed up over the last year or so and that got Director Sheppard killed," Tony bowed his head down. "I needed you Boss but you just turned your back," he said.

"Is that what you thought DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked with a shocked tone. "I was giving you some space and not having a go at you because you were doing enough tearing yourself apart without me adding to it," he told him. "I was angry at first but listen to what I'm about to say… None of it was your fault," he said flatly.

"I wish I could believe that Boss," Tony responded.

"In time you will DiNozzo. But I swear if you ever go off the rails like that again you'd wish you worked somewhere else… You got that?"

"About what you said Boss," Tony said uncomfortably.

"I was angry… I think we both needed to let off some steam," Gibbs responded.

"Boss. You know I really want to thank you for not backing down in the fight," Tony said.

Gibbs slapped him at the back of the head. "Just don't forget that you belong here on my team," he said.

"Thanks Boss," Tony said with a smile as they left autopsy. He was smiling because of another thought running through his mind.

_I am Jack's sense of belonging._

* * *

A/N: Hoped you enjoyed the little ride. Now for those who don't understand the last line. In the movie Fight Club... the two main characters found a book in an old house that had poems written in the third person about Jack's organs and that. ANd occasionally through the movie, they say things like I am Jack's...


End file.
